Welcome to Leap of Faith, a new weekly blog hosted by veteran religion reporter Alicia Ambrosio, exploring faith, spirituality and Vancouver's sacred spaces.
Other than the occasional creak of the wood floor 鈥� which is to be expected in a building more than 100 years old 鈥� not a sound is made by the four people walking around the upper hall of St. Paul鈥檚 Anglican Church in Vancouver鈥檚 West End.
In part, this is because it is just after 8:30 a.m. But mostly it is because they are and silence is the rule of this ancient practice.
Labyrinth designs appeared as far back as the Bronze Age on the Aegean Islands of the Mediterranean. Over time, they appeared in Roman mosaics and eventually Catholic churches.
The earliest church labyrinth, from the Basilica of St. Reparata in Al-Asnam (Orleansville), Algeria, dates back to the year 324. Labyrinths eventually appeared in cathedrals across Europe, most notably the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Chartres, France, and the Basilica of Saint Vital in Ravenna, Italy.
The Christianized labyrinth became a prayer tool. Because there is only one way to and from the centre of a labyrinth 鈥� and unlike a maze there are no dead ends 鈥� a person can walk without paying too much attention to their surroundings. This, it is believed, frees the mind to meditate on other things, or just be silent.
Labyrinths have thanks to Dr. Lauren Artress, an Anglican priest and canon at Grace Cathedral in San Francisco. She founded , an organization aimed at reviving the use of the labyrinth, in the late 1990s. Her work seems to have paid off.
At St. Paul鈥檚, Sharon Connaughty, a member of the church鈥檚 Labyrinth Guild, tells me there was a seven-circuit Cretan labyrinth installed at St. Paul鈥檚 in 1996. In 1997, the priest of St. Paul鈥檚, Rev. April Stanley, approached the congregation about having a replica of the Chartres labyrinth painted on the floor of the hall above the church, to replace the previous one. The congregation agreed and set to work along with the help of experts in sacred geometry. The labyrinth will celebrate its 20th anniversary in October.
The church鈥檚 five-member Labyrinth Guild makes sure someone is on hand whenever the labyrinth is open to the public.
鈥淗umankind has a natural tendency to the spiritual,鈥� Connaughy says. 鈥淥ur ministry is to provide the atmosphere and tools for walkers to have their own spiritual experience.鈥�
When I arrive at the labyrinth on a Wednesday morning, a staff member greets me at the entrance to the labyrinth room and explains the etiquette: shoes off, silence please. She shows me where to find a booklet with some suggested prayers and, when I indicate that I am ready, she shows me to the entrance of the labyrinth.
At first I feel silly walking shoeless along the floor of a church hall completely foreign to me. I suddenly remember a series of prayers from my own faith tradition and realize this might be the perfect time to say those prayers. Only later, when I notice I have somehow arrived at the opposite side of the room from where I started and I can not remember how I got there, do I realize that I have indeed been absorbed in silent prayer and relatively free of distracting thoughts.
When I complete my walk, Sam, the staff member, comes over to chat with me: Was I drawn to any specific part of the labyrinth? How did I feel while walking?
She explains that each part of the central flower design has a different meaning and the 鈥減etal鈥� I was drawn to is the petal of abundance. She hands me a sheet with suggested prayers for people like me who are drawn to that part of the labyrinth.
The explanation of the significance of each petal strike me as being a bit new age-ey. Sam does not seem offended that I gently change course and talk about what I felt while walking. At two points during my walk I stopped and realized I had no idea how I had arrived where I was standing. Convinced I had somehow messed up, I looked over the path I had walked and the next few metres ahead of me and it all made sense again.
It seems this is quite normal and is supposed to be a reminder that someone else is in control 鈥� God, the universe, love, the Great Mother, etc. 鈥� and put life back in its proper perspective.
The labyrinth at St. Paul鈥檚 attracts a variety of people, some who might not otherwise set foot in a church. Often people turn up to walk the labyrinth after the loss of a loved one, during stressful periods, or when agonizing over life decisions.
Connaughty says she walks the labyrinth after she attends morning service at the church. She uses the time to contemplate what she heard during the service.
鈥淚 see it as walking meditation... I like metaphor and paradox and I鈥檓 not inclined to sit in a lotus position,鈥� she says.
Rev. Ross Bliss at Christ Church Anglican Cathedral, who was a parishioner of St. Paul鈥檚 and a regular labyrinth walker before he he became a priest, says, 鈥減rayer is an embodied activity, something physically happens when you pray,鈥� and the labyrinth is a physical aid to prayer.
鈥淚t's a simple, simple concept,鈥� says Bliss. You walk in whichever way you want and and you pray in whichever way you want.
Christ Church Cathedral has a portable labyrinth, a replica of the Ravenna labyrinth, that is brought out for use several times a year.
Bliss has seen the effect of his walks in his spiritual life. 鈥淚t鈥檚 a calming practice, calm and centred. It鈥檚 healthy,鈥� he says.
Anyone from any faith tradition, or even from no particular faith tradition can walk a labyrinth. 鈥淲hatever your spirituality is, it invites you to be before God,鈥� he says.
Both Bliss and Connaughty say more often than not they find they leave a labyrinth walk with some new clarity on whatever issue has been on their minds before.听
In Christian circles, the labyrinth is not without its controversy. Despite being found in Catholic churches throughout history, some Christians believe the labyrinth is a neo-pagan, new age ritual that should be avoided. The Catholic Cathedral of Chartres debunks this on听, telling visitors that the labyrinth is not a 鈥渕agic sign鈥� but a tool that 鈥渋ntelligently鈥� facilities mediation, and that the only energy to be found in labyrinth is within the people who walk it.
The Labyrinth at St. Paul鈥檚 Tuesday-Friday, 8:30 - 9:30 a.m., Saturday 10 a.m. - noon and Sunday 9:30 a.m. - 12:30 p.m. Special labyrinth walks accompanied by music take place on the second and last Fridays of each month. The 20th anniversary of the St. Paul鈥檚 labyrinth will be celebrated Oct. 13 with a labyrinth walk from 7 - 9 p.m. accompanied by jazz clarinetist James Danderfer.
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鈥� After graduating from Simon Fraser University with a degree in communication, Alicia moved to Rome, where she got an unexpected start covering religion. Stints in Toronto, Madrid and Toronto followed, culminating with her return home to the West Coast. Alicia has worked as a television producer and host, and is currently a freelance writer for Aleteia and Catholic News Service, as well as Leap of Faith, the Westender's blog on faith and spirituality in Vancouver.
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Note: An earlier version of this article stated a labyrinth was first installed at St. Paul's in 1966. It was 1996. It also referred to a St. Paul's staff member as a volunteer. We regret the errors.听
